Stays on the Mile
by Captain Vox
Summary: Brutal is struggling with his sexual life, and Dean is the unintended focus. Brutal knows this lifestyle choice is dangerous for a man in the 1930s and tries to hide it. Dean is too perceptive for that, too receptive to Brutal. Besides, what happens on the Mile, stays on the Mile. Brutal/Dean. M for language and adult themes. ON HOLD


**A/N This is my first Green Mile fic. I've always toyed with the idea of Brutal and Dean, and couldn't _not_ write one after watching it again a few hours ago, especially on finding out how few Green Mile fics there are, and only one Brutal/Dean fic. I think they're just the most obvious pairing :) Hoping to get a few readers despite the small-seeming fandom! Enjoy, anyone who reads! More chapters to come and M for language so far, later there will be more reasons for M! **

* * *

When Brutus Howell walked through the door of The Green Mile and saw Dean's neck being strangled by Billy, he swore he saw red. Not to mention, Percy was just standing there, watching it happen with the dullest look of surprise. Brutus ripped the unused baton from his hands. Taking three of the biggest, quickest steps he had in his life, Brutus was on the two in moments, and bashed Billy over the head with his baton. He winced at the thud Dean and Billy made.

"You're a big fucker."

Brutus brought the wood down on "Billy the Kid's" face knocking him clean out then threw the baton back at Percy.

That at least made the left edge of Brutus' mouth turn up in a small grin. He moved quickly to Dean's side, extracting as carefully as he could Billy's arms and chains from about him. He held the other prison guard's head gently and put it back down. Then he crouched and pulled Dean into his lap, cradling him against his chest. He yanked Dean's collar open and rubbed his throat, muttering, "That's it boy, breathe now. Just breathe."

He looked down at the younger man and almost smiled. Dean just looked up at him, gasping and trying to explain. Brutal shook his head and shushed him. "Breathe, boy."

Things quieted down fairly quickly after that. Brutus took Dean down to the infirmary just to make sure he was alright, that nothing was broken. That spark in Dean's eyes was dangerous, Brutal knew, and something he needed to crush. For selfish reason, he also knew he never would.

"You okay, Dean?"

Rubbing his neck lightly, the nurse run off already, Dean nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine thanks to you, Brutal."

"Good." Brutus stood up and started to walk away, only to be caught on the wrist by Dean.

He turned and looked back at him. "Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Brutus nodded and pulled his wrist free heading back to the Mile. His breath was stuck in his throat and he was starting to feel like Billy had been choking _him_. "Fuck…" He breathed out heavily and pulled open the door to the Green Mile again. He glanced in the place that Billy, Dean, and Harry had just been. No sign of that now.

Strolling further in, he looked in the cell holding Billy and found the man still out cold. Good riddance. The other inmates were quite. Paul was sitting at the desk, Harry was in a separate room in the infirmary, and Percy was nowhere to be seen. That was good, because Brutus was ready to punch that cowardly piece of meat in the face.

"Brutal, how are Dean and Harry?" Paul looked up from the paperwork he was filling out.

Brutus pulled up short and walked over, leaning a hip on the edge of the desk. "Both of 'um are fine."

"Alright, good. Mind writing up your end of this whole mess?" He held out a file for him.

"Not a problem," Brutus tilted his head up in a nod of acknowledgement. He grabbed the papers and headed for the small desk off to the side. It would be a good way to keep his mind occupied.

He couldn't get the image of Dean, choking and gasping for life, out of his head. He wrote angrily, the letters heavy and dark under his left hand. Had he not walked in… With Paul aiming that gun…

"Brutal…"

Paul's voice snapped Brutus' attention. "What?"

The Captain indicted down at Brutus' leg with his eyes. It was bouncing, his heel clicking on the painted concrete. "Sorry." He held it still with a hand atop his thigh. He could see Paul shrug from the corner of his eye. They'd been friends a long time. They'd started their time here together, about ten years prior, just off other jobs which hadn't paid as much. Brutus was sure Paul could see something was wrong.

"We're all worked up after that. Haven't had so many slip ups since Percy started, that's for sure." Paul's voice was calm, and it leaked into Brutus' fraying nerves like a soothing balm.

"Yeah, well… Kid like him, connections he has… I'd be surprised if he sticks around for long." Brutus bent back over the papers and wrote it up as quick and accurate as he could.

Dean and Harry came back after a spell, carrying brown paper sacks from the country store down the road a ways. "Figured we could all use something to eat." Harry smiled.

The four crowded around the desk, Percy still missing, and passed the food around. Brutus couldn't keep his eyes from the deep red marks across Dean's neck. He apparently stared too openly. Dean glanced at him, cocked an eyebrow in question.

As subtly as he could manage, Brutus just shook his head and buried into his food. Everyone but him chatted openly, mostly trying to avoid any conversation about their screw up with Billy.

* * *

The next morning Brutus woke in a large bed. Alone. His alarm clock read eight a.m. It was a Thursday and he did not have to go into work today. Blinking at the circular silver thing, he grimaced and rolled over. He was not stepping out of the bed until at least ten. Pulling the comforter tighter he wondered briefly what it would be like to wake up to someone next to him. Maybe to Dean next to him. There was no way, and he shouldn't be thinking like that.

Dean was a man and that was not right of him to think of another man in a sexual manner. Not to mention, the younger man had a pretty woman and a couple of beautiful kids, one more on the way. It was absolutely stupid to even fantasize.

But there was good reason a man like Brutus did not have a little woman next to him. He didn't care for the "fairer sex", no matter how much attention they gave him. God help him, Brutus had known for a few years now that he was a faggot, and there was nothing to be done about it. He lived as best he could with that sin over his head, keeping it to himself and never allowing himself to give in to the urges.

It was just, for the past year and half, since Dean had come to the Green Mile, those urges and longings were harder and harder to deny. It was part of why he was such an emotionally devoid being at work. He kept himself resigned and not easily provoked so that he could hide what he really was. Hell, Paul wasn't even privy to that information, and Paul knew damned near everything about everyone.

Today, Brutus would get his head back on straight then he would get back to his job.


End file.
